War of the words (original) (raw)

According to Mao Zedong, power comes through the barrel of a gun. These days, however, it is more likely to come through the barrel of a pen - or the sensors on a keyboard.

China is in the midst of a guerrilla war, a conflict against the world's biggest censor that is very much in keeping with the information age. In the 1940s, Mao's communist rebels used hit-and-run tactics to sap the morale - and eventually defeat - the numerically superior but morally bankrupt nationalist forces. This time, it is journalists, bloggers and dissidents who are probing the defences of a more powerful but equally despised enemy: the propaganda department of the Communist party.

Media battles are nothing new in China, where the best journalists have been quietly pushing at the boundaries of free speech for more than 20 years. But the past week has seen a very public and international escalation of hostilities.

After the sacking of three leading editors and the closure of Freezing Point - a respected publication - some of the country's most influential liberals have joined forces and fought back, using new technology and a rediscovered boldness not seen since the late 1980s.

The fired editor, Li Datong of Freezing Point, was the first to talk of a "guerrilla war" with the propaganda department. Another, Chen Jieren, editor of the Public Interest Times, launched a web campaign to rebut the authorities' claim that he lost his job because of personal problems.

Fighting back rather than accepting punishment is unusual, but not unprecedented. What has been astonishing - and what should alarm the authorities the most - is where their support has come from.

In a joint letter, 13 retired officials, academics and lawyers - including Li Rui, the former secretary of Mao Zedong - called for the easing of censorship, new laws to protect press freedom and the reopening of Freezing Point. "History demonstrates that only a totalitarian system needs news censorship, out of the delusion that it can keep the public locked in ignorance," they wrote. "Depriving the public of freedom of expression so nobody dares speak out will sow the seeds of disaster for political and social transition."

The signatories were a Who's Who of liberal elders, many of whom dictated media policy during the flowering of free expression in the 80s. They included Zhu Houze, a former chief of the propaganda department; Hu Jiwei, the former editor-in-chief of People's Daily - the mouthpiece of the Communist party; Li Pu, former vice-president of Xinhua News Agency.

This old guard declared the closure of Freezing Point a "major historic incident", a claim that was sharpened by the background - widespread discontent with the Communist party; and the timing - the same week that the US Congress took Google, Yahoo and Microsoft to task for collaborating with the censors in Beijing.

But the real force for change is technology rather than politics, as the censors are the first to admit. "The internet is now the main influence on public opinion," a government official responsible for internet surveillance tells the Guardian. "The people who get their information from the web are the most active sector of society - 80% of web users are under 35. So our government pays more and more attention to the internet because it is so important."

That attention does not appear to be paying off. "On the bulletin boards, most of the comment about the party is negative," admits the official. "We need to work on that. We cannot ignore public opinion, especially when it is allied to technological change."

At first sight, China's 111 million online population seems studiously apolitical. Most just chat, play games, download music and watch porn, like everywhere in the world. Very few would consider themselves interested in politics, which has become something of an old-fashioned word, let alone democratic activism.

Yet there is lively debate on the internet that is largely critical of the Communist party, blamed for corruption, injustice and restrictions on the web. Print journalists are among the most active and the most influential voices on the web, which they use to publish what the censors block from newspapers and magazines. Many were furious about the closure of Freezing Point, but their frustrations - and ambitions for change - stretch back far further. "There is a big change in attitude among journalists," says one former editor, who asks to remain nameless. "The Communist party always claimed to be on the side of the public, but most journalists and editors no longer believe this. They want to write reports that reform society, that hold the authorities to account. This is now mainstream thinking. It wasn't 10 years ago."

Another editor, who - like many of the reformers - was a student during the 1989 Tiananmen protests, agrees. "I think our generation may be a revolutionary one. Not in the old sense, but in the way we embrace change, very rapid change. We want more democracy."

Many had hoped for a loosening of controls when Hu Jintao became president three years ago. The early signs were good. During that year's Sars crisis, journalists enjoyed wide freedoms to expose cover-ups and contributed to the sacking of the health minister and the Beijing mayor. It did not last. MediaGuardian has learned that former president Jiang Zemin wrote a letter to the politburo that summer warning that the media were running out of control. Since then, China has gone through a prolonged tightening. Prominent journalists have been arrested, publications closed, websites blocked, blogs shut down. Internet cafes are supposed to register all users and monitor which sites they visit. New filtering software has been introduced to limit access to "spiritually impure" information, which includes positive references to the Dalai Lama, Taiwanese independence or the Falun Gong spiritual movement.

An internet police force - reportedly numbering 30,000 - trawls websites and chatrooms, erasing anti-Communist comments and posting pro-government messages. Even foreign internet giants have been press-ganged into the biggest censorship operation in history. In order to do business in China, Microsoft does not allow the word "democracy" to be used in a subject heading for its MSN Spaces blog service; Google last month restricted search results for the Tiananmen Square massacre; and Yahoo handed over private email information that reportedly led to the conviction of two internet dissidents.

Yet even with the sophisticated filtering software, the collaboration of internet giants and the increasingly heavy-handed crackdowns on dissidents and journalists, the propaganda department appears to be losing the battle for hearts and minds. It is partly because there are so many ways around the restrictions, including the use of proxy servers to reach blocked websites and the use of slang terms to discuss sensitive subjects in chatrooms. It is partly because the volume of information available online is so huge that even an army of internet police can not cover all billion-plus webpages, 111 million users, more than 5m blogs, countless bulletin boards, numerous languages and a vast smorgasbord of images. English results turn up far more sensitive information than those in Mandarin. Pictures of demonstrations - which cannot easily be filtered by keyword - are widely available.

But the main reason why the propaganda department is losing credibility is that its message has become even more out of date than its technology. China is getting richer, but its 1.3 billion people are becoming more divided. Demonstrations - usually sparked when corrupt officials seize land for development - are now commonplace. Even the central government appears to be struggling to rein in avaricious local leaders, who treat their territories like personal fiefdoms. For the past three years, many journalists feel they have been encouraged by Beijing to go out into the provinces and expose bribery, pollution and lax industrial safety because central government officials cannot otherwise get reliable information let alone implement the law.

But every scandal tarnishes the ruling party. The media may still be state controlled, but that does not mean the journalists are on their side. The Communist party is in trouble - there are guerrillas in its midst - and the crackdown suggests its leaders know it. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists and Reporters Without Borders, 32 journalists and 81 internet dissidents are in jail.

For the moment, the authorities still have the upper hand. But the past week has brought closer together some of the most powerful opinion-formers from China's future and its past: the angry young online and the retired old guard. The propaganda authorities are now wedged uncomfortably between the two.

Pressure is also building overseas, particularly in the US. At a congressional hearing this week, Yahoo, Microsoft, Cisco and Google were accused of sacrificing principles for profits in colluding with Beijing's censors.

Many influential Chinese bloggers believe the media furore surrounding them miss the point. "These are regarded as simply western exercises in self-absorption, self-indulgence and self-flagellation, and completely alien to the Chinese situation," says Roland Soong, in his EastSouthWestNorth blog.

Others strike a distinctly nationalist tone, saying Washington should mind its own business. "The freedom and rights of the Chinese people can only be won by the Chinese people themselves," says Zhao Jing, who blogs under the pen name An Ti. "The only true way of solving the internet blockage in China is this: every Chinese youth with conscience must practise and expand their freedom and oppose any blockage and suppression every day. This is the country that we love. Nobody wants her to be free more than we do."

Whether because of young bloggers, old cadres or US congressmen, the Chinese authorities are - at least temporarily - on the defensive. As well as retired cadres joining forces, another previously unheard of event took place last week: a press conference by the normally secretive Internet Affairs Bureau of the State Council. "No one in China has been arrested simply because he or she said something on the internet," insisted Liu Zhengrong, the deputy chief in a message clearly aimed at Washington.

The propaganda office also announced that it will re-open Freezing Point, though with a new editor. A condition for the resumption is that the first edition must include self-criticism of the "mistakes" that led to the closure.

The Guardian could not reach Mr Li, the sacked editor, for comment. But he told Reuters that the re-opening was a sham. "This exterminates the soul of Freezing Point, leaving an empty shell." He went on to say he was "extremely disappointed", but before he could explain, his telephone was abruptly cut off.